Pyrotechnic Tempers
by Crimson and Chrome 42
Summary: What happens when the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry get fed up with the feud between Harry Potter, his two best friends, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy and his friends? Full summary inside.
1. Prologue: Fed Up

Pyrotechnic Tempers 

**By Crimson & Chrome 42**

**_Summary—_** What happens when the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry get fed up with the feud between Harry Potter, his two best friends, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy and his friends?

They lock them in the library for them to work out their differences once and for all—But uh, oh! Ginny Weasley gets locked in with them, what will happen when she's had enough of all the bickering going on?

**_

* * *

Disclaimer—I don't own Harry Potter or its related characters (although I wish I did) I don't own anything or anyone else that you might find familiar—so don't sue—I doubt you'd win._**

* * *

Prologue: Fed Up 

"Oh honestly! Why can't they just _get along_?" exclaimed Professor Minerva McGonagall after breaking up another fight between Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Draco Malfoy and his cronies. "They're now on the same side—Well Draco is…"

"It's just the way of things. Draco and Weasley were brought up to despise each other. And Malfoy is jealous of _Potter_." Answered Professor Severous Snape, he had also helped break up the fight.

"I don't care!" Burst out Professor McGonagall. "They should at least tolerate each other—or ignore one another, instead of fighting. Fighting amongst our selves is not going to defeat the Dark Lord!"

"You don't think I know this? But there is nothing we can do."

McGonagall's face was pensive. "I wouldn't be so sure of that Severous. I wouldn't be so sure of that at all…"

"What—" Began Snape but before he could get the rest of his sentence out Professor McGonagall was out the door of the staff room and gone.

* * *

A.N. This is my first attempt to write a Harry Potter fic, so please be helpful not harmful. This is _obviously_ a short chapter. I'm trying to establish an important part of the plot with this Prologue. There will be more on the setting in the second or third chapter, I hope. Please R&R! 


	2. Chapter One: Backbone

Chapter One: Backbone 

Ginny Weasley wound her way through the throngs of students, bustling this way and that, on their way to their next lessons.

This was her free period and it was a beautiful day outside—Perfectly azure sky, a few fluffy clouds floating lazily in the heavens; the grass was a brilliant green and the lake was calm and smooth as glass.

Finally, Ginny burst out the front doors, bounded down the stone steps, and began to sprint towards the weeping willows lining the shores of the lake.

Unfortunately, as Ginny had discovered not long after the beginning of the year, this was also Draco Malfoy's free period. Since Harry, Ron, and Hermione had class this hour Draco settled on the next best person to torment: Ginny. The youngest and only girl of the Weasley family.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Weasel's sister…" Draco drawled, stopping Ginny's mad dash to her favorite tree.

"Sod off Malfoy, I've got more important things." Ginny said.

"Oooh! Has little Weasleyette grown a backbone?" He feigned a shudder.

Ginny was just itching to knee him then hex him into the next dimension, but she resisted the urge to do so, she was better than that. She wouldn't let her temper get the better of her—as her brother and his friends so often did.

Instead, Ginny rolled her eyes and flipped him off.

Ginny was pleased to see Malfoy momentarily caught off guard. She just turned and resumed her course to the weeping willows by the lake.

Once she was there she slid her back down the trunk and began to pull out her homework from that morning.

She was amused to see that Malfoy was still standing there blankly and looking like a prat. She watched as he came back to himself and walked back into the school.

She calmed herself down and began her work.

A.N. Short and I hope sweet! Please R&R!


	3. Chapter Two: And So It Begins

Chapter Two: And So It Begins 

"You want to lock them in the library until they settle their differences…" Headmaster Albus Dumbledore repeated slowly.

"Yes, Headmaster. It may be the only way to stop this bickering and have them get along." Professor McGonagall answered.

"Very well, as we have tried every other thing that we can think of, we shall try this. Call a personnel meeting in the Staff Room and we shall work out the details." Professor Dumbledore approved, nodding his head.

McGonagall nodded her head in understanding and set off to rally the teachers and other staff members.

* * *

"Headmaster, all the teachers and staff are assembled." Professor McGonagall said formally.

"Good, Minerva, shall we go down, then?" Dumbledore said, gracefully moving from behind the desk and toward McGonagall.

She nodded and followed him out the door and onto the staircase as it descended.

* * *

"As you are no doubt aware, the tensions between Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Ronald Weasley, and Marcus Flint are becoming out of hand." Professor Dumbledore began to tell the staff all sitting in the room around him.

"Professor, that, may be the understatement of the millenium." said Sibyl Trelawny, professor of Divination. "Why, just last week they shattered most of my china tea cups throwing curses and hexes at one another!"

Professor Dumbledore nodded sympathetically while McGonagall sniggered at a thought that had just struck her.

"That's nothing! They nearly beheaded my class last night during a lesson on the position of the planets!" Professor Sinistra piped up.

Dumbledore could see this was quickly going to a grumbling match to see who could come up with the worst damage caused by the feud.

"That is precisely why we are here tonight." He said before anyone else could come up with another zinger. "Professor McGonagall has come up with an idea that may help the situation." This bit of news caught the attention of the entire room.

"She proposes that we lock them in the library for them to work out their differences on their own. Since the library has many of the requirements for living—a lavatory with showers and baths and all the books required for their studies— it is an ideal place for them to stay." He paused for a moment to see if anyone had any objections, nobody said anything. "We will bring them their breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We will also bring them their assignments for the day with their breakfast and we will pick up their finished work when we deliver their dinner."

Still no one had a word to say; they were all pondering his words _very_ carefully, going over the details with a fine tooth comb to find any holes in the theory.

Madame Pince suddenly saw something wrong. "Professor, how are we going to keep the books safe?"

"If Professor Binns would be so kind as to put a Protecting Charm on them I think they will come through the battle just fine."

Professor Binns nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, yes! Do not worry Madame Pince, your books will be as safe as if you were guarding them yourself!"

"Does anyone have any objections to this plan?" Dumbledore asked.

No one seemed to, so they went on to work out all the details before putting the plan into action.

* * *

Ron was fuming. So were Harry and Hermione as a matter of fact. Malfoy had started in on them again at dinner. He had started out by loudly insulting them in front of the entire Great Hall. When they failed to rise to the bait he started in on Ginny. This got the desired result, in fact, it lead to a huge food fight— started by Ron, Harry, and Hermione. The rest of the Gryffindor table and the Slytherin table followed suit and soon the air of the Great Hall was filled with flying food.

When the teachers finally got the room under control, everyone was covered head to foot in that night's menu.

What was causing the trio to bluster was that they were identified as the source of the first airborne roll. So, now they were to meet the head of their house, plus, Slytherin House, and Professor Dumbledore in the library tomorrow morning for doling out of their punishment.

The boys were angry because they were being punished for something that was _clearly_ Malfoy's fault and Hermione was incensed because the boys had gotten her into trouble _again_.

Ginny was trying not to laugh at them and concentrate on her Potions homework. They were, as usual, ignoring her since she was in no danger.

Colin Creevey, one of her best friends, saw her contorted face and asked, "What's so funny?"

"They are." She said gesticulating towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "They're so caught up in this whole Malfoy thing that they went and started a food fight because he insulted me and didn't even notice that it didn't bother me at all. Now they're raving mad because they got caught and are going to be punished for something that they did to themselves!

"I just find it amusing, and a bit distracting from what I really should be doing which is this essay for Snape." Her fit of amusement had settled down to more important things.

Colin was used to the way Ginny did that, he even sometimes found it endearing.

* * *

Ginny usually skipped breakfast in the mornings so she could sleep in, but she got up early the next morning to do some extra research for that Potions essay and re-check everything she had already written, to make absolutely certain that it was correct. Hermione had started to rub off on her.

Ginny dressed and grabbed her bag and headed out to the library.

* * *

She wandered among the stacks of old and new dragon-hide-bound books; the library had always calmed Ginny when she needed. Growing up, she sometimes felt that the only friends she had were her books, and the books in the library, and the book stores that she'd wander into.

Ginny scanned the spines of the books trying to find the tittle she wanted.

* * *

Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint made their way to the library. They were seething. Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore had found them out as the source of the offending remarks that had caused the food fight last night, so they were now going to be dealt with accordingly.

This all was _clearly_ the Dream Team's fault, they shouldn't be punished for it!

They arrived at the library and pushed through the heavy double doors.

Their welcoming committee of teachers was somber.

They hadn't been there two minutes when the doors opened again and in came the Dream Team, looking sullen and bad tempered—they same as Draco, Blaise, and Marcus.

The six kids gave each other looks of such loathing that they rivaled Snape's looks for Harry, Lupin, and Mad-Eye Moody.

"Have a seat, all of you." Professor McGonagall said sternly.

They did as they were told.

"Your behaviour has been appalling and disruptive. Until now we have been lenient, but we are now going to have to come down hard on you." Professor Dumbledore said—his words were out of character, but necessary.

The vexatious bunch stayed silent.

"Your punishment is that you will be locked in here until such time as you come to an agreement to co-exist peacefully."

"WHAT?"

"_YOUR MEALS_!" Dumbledore said loudly so as to quiet the tirade of words coming from the teens before him. "Your meals," he said in a quieter voice. "will be brought to you as well as your assignments for the day. Your finished work will picked up when your dinner is brought to you."

This said, the teachers left locking the doors behind them with an unbreakable spell.

* * *

Ginny found the book she had been looking for. She pulled it off the shelf and opened it.

As she read she walked out of the stacks and toward a table where she had left her bag. She was fast becoming engrossed in the book when a voice broke her concentration. "Well, well, well. Looks like the little Weasleyette isn't as much a goody-two-shoes as we thought." The voice drawled.

Ginny looked up, irritated. "Draco Malfoy in a library! I didn't even know you knew what one was, let alone where it was in the castle." She shot back. Then his words sank into her brain. "Wait, what are you talking about? I'm not as much of a goody-two-shoes as you thought?"

The famous Malfoy smirk widened on his face.

He didn't have time to answer though, because Ron came round to see if he could torture Malfoy some and saw Ginny sitting in front of him. "Virginia Trillian Weasley! What did you do to get you locked in here too?"

"Don't call me that, Ronald Shrodinger Weasely!"

Malfoy and Zabini couldn't help but laugh, "Shrodinger?"

Ron furiously ignored them. "I asked you a question. What did you do to get yourself locked in here with us?"

"Locked in here with you? What are you talking about? I'm here to do research for an essay."

"We're going to find out sooner or later, so might as well tell us now and get it over with." Ron said.

"I've told you, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm here to do research for a Potions essay!"

"Weasley…" Malfoy started.

"WHAT?" Ginny and Ron exploded at the same time refusing to look away from the other.

"I think she's telling the truth, she doesn't know what we're talking about."

Ron rounded on him, his face and ears as red as his hair. "You keep out of this you prat! You're the reason we're in here! If you hadn't been insulting Ginny last night none of this would ever have happened!"

"Oh, shut _up_, Ron!" Ginny said, exasperated.

"You're defending him?"

"No, I'm defending my sanity! And would someone _please_ explain what's going on?"

Harry and Hermione came out to look for Ron and see if he needed any help. "Ginny! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, no!" Ginny moaned. "Not again! Somebody explain to me what's going on!"

"We've been locked in here to work out our problems with each other." Hermione said helpfully.

Ginny giggled. Everyone else goggled at her.

"C'mon, tell me what's really going on. No one in their right mind would lock you six up in a library that has all these expensive books! They'd lose a fortune!"

Still they goggled.

"Oh, would you stop goggling? It's really aggravating!"

They ogled this time.

"Stop that!"

They looked at her in disbelief.

"Ok, so you've really been locked in here?"

Still they looked at her with disbelieving looks on their faces, but they nodded.

"You mean I've been locked up too?"

"Yes." Blaise answered.

"I'm going to die." Ginny said under her breath.

"What?" Draco asked. "Didn't quite catch that, Weasleyette." He had regained his composure.

The others were gradually regaining their composure as well.

"Nothing." Ginny said and went back to her book.

* * *

A.N. It's longer!!! I'm glad that the people who've read this story have liked it so far. Hopefully I'll keep getting reviews. I don't know when this is going to be updated again, my dad controls the Internet connection here, but I hope soon! 


	4. Chapter Three: Trapped

**Chapter Three: Trapped**

CRASH! BANG! ZING!

They had been going at it ever since they had finished explaining to Ginny what was going on.

Ginny looked at her watch, it was almost lunch time. Good, maybe she could get out of here then.

KABLAM! She sighed and marked her place in the book, all the dueling in here was very impertinent.

Ginny slid the book into her bag and stood up. She stretched and heard her joints crack. She took a deep breath and ventured into the reception area where all of the fireworks were taking place.

"Ahem!" she cleared her throat, no response.

They were too busy throwing vulgar insults at one another to even notice she was standing there.

She thought about doing something else to stop them, but this was quite an engaging display.

She crossed her arms and watched for a few minutes, just as she was tiring of their combat the doors to the library opened and Professor Snape came in carrying and floating trays full of food.

He failed to notice Ginny at first as the battle before him was quite distracting.

"Silencio!" he bellowed, his wand pointing at the six teens before him, instantly the sound from them was extinguished.

"I am afraid that I have some rather disturbing news for you Weasley, your sister is missing."

Ginny smiled, "I'm right here Professor. I accidentally got locked in here this morning when I was doing research for your essay."

"Oh, Miss Weasley!" he was surprised to find her standing in front of him.

"Now that you're here I can leave!"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Weasley. The spell cannot be lifted until everyone is getting along, it recognizes everyone who was in the library at the time of the charming. You cannot leave until they," he gestured to her brother, his friends, and Malfoy and his friends, "have stopped fighting and are getting along with one another."

Ginny had always gotten on fairly well with Professor Snape, ever since she had discovered that he was a pretty good teacher, so she had no reason to doubt that he was telling the truth.

"You must be lying, you just want to get rid of her so you don't have to put up with her!" Ron burst out.

Snape's ebony eyes flashed. "I am not _lying_, Weasley. If you don't believe me have her try for herself."

Just to humor Ron she did try to walk out the door, she was thrown back on the floor when she did so.

Snape helped her up.

"Now that this little matter has been cleared up, I must return to the rest of the school—I have classes to teach, you know." Snape waved his wand in the general direction of the food tray and an extra plate of food appeared on it. He swept out of the room, the doors closing behind him.

Ginny sat down heavily at a table, so she was trapped here—most likely for the rest of her life.

As she picked at her food, the rest resumed their fighting.

* * *

Seeing as how she was going to be living in the library, Ginny staked out the Restricted Section of the library as her sleeping area. She charmed it so that she was the only one who could enter it, soundproofed it, as well as conjured herself a bed, dresser, lamp, and desk.

She sat down on her bed and pulled her bag onto it. She had awhile ago charmed it to link to everything she owned, it was a handy little spell called the Mary Poppins Charm.

She began pulling belongings from it and settling into her new room.

Ginny was just as fascinated by muggles as her father. She had made quite a few friends in the Muggle Realm. A few summers ago she had also taken a muggle job. She gradually took two more as well, because she enjoyed it so much.

She now owned her own laptop, TV, portable CD player, cell phone, radio and all the accessories to accompany all of them—all of which she had charmed to work in the Magical Realm. She also made enough money to buy most of the books that she wanted.

After settling in (which only took a couple of hours—during which the combatants engaged forces the entire time) and finishing her assignments, Ginny selected a book (muggle)—Stephen King's _Carrie_—and curled up for a long night's reading.

She paused briefly for dinner. And spoke with Professor McGonagall who apologized for the misunderstanding (Professor Snape had informed Dumbledore and the rest of the staff of the situation) and suggested that she might be able to help clear up the predicament faster than expected.

When Ginny asked her how she said she didn't know and that she was sure that Ginny would come up with something.

Ginny pondered this conversation while she nibbled on some roast beef and roasted garlic veggies. How could _she_ help? Merlin knew that she wanted to get out of there, like yesterday, but she had no idea how to get her fellow jailbirds to stop their bickering and get them to get along.

The questions that had arisen from the short discussion were inevitably pushed to the back of her mind as she returned to macabre novel she started earlier in the day. She fell asleep shortly after she reached the middle of the tale—the book slipping from her hand and falling with a thud to the floor.

_

* * *

The room was steeped in shadows. There was nothing in the room save a window, no door, no furniture. The moon was level with the window—it was full. The silvery light was feeble and beautiful._

"_Just like you." A soft voice whispered in her ear. The voice was so familiar it sent shivers up her spine and her breathing became erratic._

"_I promised you I'd return." His mouth was so close to her ear his lips brushed against it. He put his arms around her and turned her around to face him._

"_Tom! How?" she gasped._

_Tom put a finger to her lips, "Shhh… Later, first drink this." He picked up a garnet colored chalice and gently put it to her lips. _

_The liquid contained in the deep red goblet flooded her mouth. It tasted of sweet ripened strawberries and of sour sumac. _

_Once she had reluctantly swallowed the last drop of liquid Tom moved closer to her, she backed into the wall. Trapped._

"_I haven't much time, but before I go, I must do this." He pressed his lips onto hers—his lips were cold and filled with incandescent passion and desire. She didn't kiss back. She felt as if the life were draining out of her. _

_He began to fade, his lips still pressed against hers._

* * *

Ginny woke in a cold sweat and curled up in a fetal ball. She was terrified and weak, dizzy and shaking, her stomach felt as if her dinner wanted to come up.

She cautiously uncurled and climbed out of bed. She grabbed her pajamas, slipped her feet into her slippers and quietly crept out of her makeshift room and towards the bathroom.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still fighting fiercely with Malfoy, Zabini, and Flint.

She filled a glass with cool water, and sluggishly drank it—hoping to calm her roiling stomach.

Ginny slowly undressed. She laid out her pjs and towel out and climbed—still shaking—into the shower.

She let the heated water pound on her pale skin, attempting to wash away the memory of the nightmare.

When she was finished with her shower and dressed Ginny turned on her radio, pulled the coves up to her chin and forced her weary mind to focus on nothing but the soft country music drifting through her space.

She eventually fell into a uneasy, capricious doze.

* * *

A.N. I am _SO_ sorry! When I was updating my story I accidentally replace Chapter 3 with 4 and posted the former _twice_! I'm such an idiot at times— Anyway, so here it is; again, I apologize for the mix-up, and hopefully I'll have more of the story up soon! As always, let me know what you think, email, review or both! 


	5. Chapter Four: Then Came the Night

Chapter Four: Then Came the Night

Ginny woke the next morning in an ill-temper.

She stretched, her joints and vertebrae popped—the sound annoyed her.

She selected the day's clothing, she couldn't find anything she wanted, she finally settled on a pair of white capris and a pink T-shirt (she didn't even know she owned one of those)— She hated white pants and she loathed the color pink with an unrivaled passion. The outfit irked her.

She quickly dressed—she didn't know why, it's not as if she had anywhere to be.

The library was quiet for a change. The Peace Brigade (as the whole of the school usually called them) had finally gone to sleep.

She found their breakfast (bagels and cream cheese) and their assignments for the day—she vaguely wondered if the PB had stopped fighting long enough to finish their lessons for yesterday.

She grabbed a blueberry bagel, spread cream cheese on it—aggravated because it wasn't peanut butter—and looked over the day's lessons.

Back in the Restricted Section Ginny was studying—she was finishing faster than usual, it seemed to her that she didn't even need to read the text, she already knew the answers. She was finished in no time.

She ventured out into the rest of the library. She could hear talking, but she didn't hear any signs of a battle being waged.

She decided to look around and find her brother.

She found him with Harry and Hermione. This really irritated her. It seemed to her that they never went anywhere without one or both of the group.

Harry noticed her first. "Oh, hi, Ginny!" he grinned.

"I see you three tore yourselves away from Malfoy long enough to start your assignments." She replied coolly.

They looked at her taken aback by the ice in her voice.

"Uh, y-yes." Harry stammered, a piece of jet hair falling into his eyes. This irritated her more, actually, everything about Harry, annoyed her at the moment. His emerald eyes with the little-boy-lost look in them. They way he had just stammered an answer to her statement. And mostly the way he seemed to have to come to the rescue in any situation!

"What are you up to?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing, I've already finished my lessons and the book I started last night, and I haven't decided on the next book, so…"

"So you thought that you'd come bug us." Ron finished for her.

"Well… I thought about bugging Malfoy, but you guys are a lot more fun to annoy." Ginny was experimenting with hiding her true feelings, she was doing rather well, she thought.

Harry arched an eyebrow—a habit that he'd caught from Ginny herself.

Could he tell something was up?

"Now is not a good time to bug us, we still have yesterday's lessons to do." Hermione said looking down at her parchment.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's why it's called 'bugging'. It's not supposed be at convenient time!"

Harry and Ron both grinned.

Hermione Just ignored them.

Ginny rolled her eyes again, and walked off.

Ginny roamed the library. Shafts of morning light played on the floor and reading tables making interesting patterns.

She was on edge.

The fine hairs on her body prickled and stood on end— someone was watching her…

She spun in every direction—searching for her observer—in each direction she found nothing, no one her naked eye could detect. Yet, the eerie feeling persisted.

Ginny began to feel paranoid.

She started back toward the Restricted Section.

She was so preoccupied with her feeling of paranoia that she didn't see Draco walking out of the stacks with his nose stuck in a rather large volume.

"Oof!" the air was expelled from Ginny's lungs as she fell to the ground.

"You really should watch where you're going, Weasleyette." Malfoy drawled, looking down at her. He had somehow managed to stay upright.

Ginny blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes and glared up at him. "The same could be said for you."

She made her way to her feet. Ginny noticed that while Draco had managed to stay on his feet, the book that he had been so entranced by had fallen on the floor.

She bent down to retrieve it.

It was a huge, thick volume. Ginny scanned the contents. "Run out of interesting things to do to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, did we?" Ginny asked conversationally.

Surprise just barely reregistered in Draco's cold grey eyes. Ginny caught it, and she enjoyed it.

"Personally, I think it would be easier just to kill them all and get it over with, but…" she shrugged. "To each his own."

Ginny said this with a completely straight face and Draco wasn't at all sure if she was joking or not.

He studied her for a few seconds, Ginny noticing this broke out a mischievous grin and twinkle in her eyes.

That completely caught Draco off guard, as she knew it would.

She was enjoying this, Draco could feel it, and he thought he could play her game just as well— if not better—than Ginny.

"Yeah, well, I thought they'd like a bit of change."

Ginny wasn't in the least bit surprised by this—What surprised her was that she could feel what he was feeling, or at least that's what's she thought she (or he) was feeling.

"I dunno, maybe." She shrugged again.

Draco was disappointed that by this reaction, he had watched her face intently and found no trace of surprise.

"Although, your approach just might have its advantages."

"Yes, it does. But if you prefer, torture is a very effective way of annoying them. But if you want the advantages of both, just put them all in a full body bind, and read them a Mathematics textbook."

Ginny saw the amusement light in his cool grey eyes, she could feel it too.

"But what's to say it wouldn't torture me as well?" he asked. "Besides, Granger would probably enjoy it."

"Ahh, but not if you give misinformation."

"Oh, I see where your going with this…"

"I'll let you figure it out, I've got a Dean Koontz novel calling my name." She said and walked off, toward the Restricted Section, Draco noticed. So, that's where she was staying… Wait, Dean Koontz? Who the bloody hell was Dean Koontz?

Ginny was again curled up on her bed reading a new book. She was beginning to feel groggy and drugged. But the book was almost finished and just at the climax, she tried to fight the overtaking feeling of sleep.

Ginny just barely finished the book when she suddenly felt the feeling that she was being watched intensify.

She again looked around in every direction, and again found no one.

She pushed the feeling aside, extinguished her light, turned her radio down to a soft, comfortable level, and snuggled down under her covers.

She let the soft music wash over her, soothing her frazzled nerves and relaxing her tightened muscles.

Ginny felt bone tired, she didn't know why, she hadn't really done anything all day.

As she lay there, Ginny went over the day in her mind. She eventually got bored with what she had done that day and her mind turned to old memories of the no-so distant past.

She was cold, so cold. She tried to sit up to grab for the blanket at the end of her bed.

She couldn't move.

Terror gripped her she couldn't even open her eyes.

She found it harder and harder to breathe with each passing second.

She felt faint and weak.

She heard noise, it sounded like voices in a far-away room.

She concentrated and gradually the sounds arranged themselves into speech. But she couldn't understand the words.

She concentrated harder, focusing everything she had on the voices.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake? She's not—she's not—?" Said a voice that sounded remarkably like Harry's.

"She's still alive. But only just." Said the other voice, Tom's.

She knew those voices so well.

"Are you a ghost?" asked Harry's voice.

"A memory. Preserved in a diary for fifty years." Tom's voice corrected quietly.

Ginny's terror—until now had been pushed to the side—reached a point that she couldn't bear it.

She had to tell Harry something—she just couldn't remember what.

She tried to call out to him, but nothing happened—No sound, no movement, nothing.

"You've got to help me, Tom," said Harry. Ginny tried to scream at him, "Don't trust him!"_ but again nothing. She felt her head being raised, she felt the warmth, it felt so good. _

"We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment… Please, help me—"

Ginny felt her body moved into a sitting position, the heat radiating off of Harry's body felt so good.

"Thanks," Harry's voice said, he was trying to pick her up so he could carry her.

"Listen," his voice went on. "We've got to go! _If the basilisk comes—" _

Ginny felt her body being lowered back onto the ground.

No! She was so cold.

"It won't come until it's called." Tom replied calmly.

"What d'you mean? Look, give me my wand, I might need it—"

"You won't be needing it." She heard Tom say.

Ginny didn't know what he was going to do, but she knew it wouldn't be good.

It was getting harder to concentrate and understand the words being exchanged, the voices were fading, but she could still make out the words.

"What d'you mean, I won't be—?"

"I've been waiting a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," Ginny could tell that Harry was losing his patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets_. We can talk later— " _

"We're going to talk now." She could just hear Tom smiling.

It was quiet for a moment or two.

"How did Ginny get like this?" asked Harry slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Tom's voice was pleasant. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

The voices were getting fainter. But Ginny's resolve increased.

"What are you talking about?"

"The diary. My_ diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how her brothers _tease_ her, how she had to come to school with secondhand books and robes how, how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her…" _

Ginny's breath caught in her lungs, he was telling all her secrets.

She felt her life slipping away little by little, flowing out of her body, into…

"It's very boring_, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply _loved_ me. _No one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"

"Don't trust him!"We've got to go! Chamber of SecretsMyteaseeverboringlovedNo one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"

Ginny heard him laugh, a high, cold laugh. Her heart was broken. Her spirit was broken.

Ginny was losing her grip on the world around her, the voices slipped into incomprehensible whispers from a far-away room.

Soft music drifting over her slumbering body, Ginny's memories slipped into dreams.

She was back in the room with no furniture and only one window. The moon was still full. The silver light streaming in on her.

"You've changed so much since I left you in your eleventh year." Tom said.

Ginny was caught off guard. Tom was standing so close to her, his eyes burning into hers.

"We tend to do that." Ginny said finally.

Tom lifted his hand her hair and ran his fingers through the silky strands.

"Your hair has changed the most."

It was true, her hair was no longer the orange it had been in her first year. It was now brownish strawberry-blond, not as dark as before, but just as beautiful, also longer, falling to the middle of her back.

"You're wrong. I've_ changed the most." _

A small, wistful smile played on his lips.

He moved away from her slightly, he reached for something behind her, on the window sill.

He brought the same garnet goblet from before to her lips.

The same sweet and sour liquid splashed into her mouth.

Once again after she had finished the last droplet contained within the goblet, Tom kissed her.

Putting his arms around her waist and pulling her body close to his.

His body was oddly cool. But his lips were burning.

His kiss was full of raw passion and stinging desire.

I've 

The kiss lasted longer than the last, but he faded away just as he had before—His body pressed against hers, his lips crushed against hers.

A.N. Well, that's the next chapter. For anyone who is _actually_ reading this fic, please feel free to let me know what you think. Oh, and for anyone who actually reads the reviews (I'm odd, I do.) the reviewer who calls herself Ginny, that really is her name. I've known her since 1st grade, and it hasn't changed since. Oh, and for disclaimer see Chapter 1


	6. Chapter Five: I’ve Always Been Crazy, Bu...

Chapter Five: I've Always Been Crazy, But It's Kept Me From Goin' Insane 

Ginny blearily woke the next morning. Her dreams from the night's sleep fuzzy.

Her ill-temper from the day before had doubled.

She supposed that it had something to do with the monstrous headache she seemed to have developed.

She felt as if she were hung over. Had she been drinking the night before? She couldn't remember.

She blearily opened her eyes. The sun streaming in from the window behind her bed made her head throb and pulse faster and harder. There was a rush in her ears.

Ginny closed her eyes against the invading bright light.

Slowly she sat up, blearily opened her eyes again, put her feet on the floor—Cold! She found her slippers, blearily wandered around the room gathering her bath supplies and stomped off to the bathroom for a wash.

Toothpaste—so. Brush, scrub.

Electric flosser, vibrate, itch.

Tongue scraper—Ouch! Too hard.

Mouthwash. Swish, burn, gargle, spit.

Mirror, reflecting her face. Ink.

The word "ink" wandered through her mind, searching for something to connect with.

Shower, she needed one. Hot, sweaty—Not at all how she liked to be.

Shirt pulled over her head. Pants, step out of them.

She stood there, stark naked.

Rag, towel, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, puff.

Water, on, hot, steam.

The shower was reviving. Her mind turned to the dreams of the previous night, now becoming clearer.

Despite the hot water pounding on her pale skin she shivered.

She could still feel his body close to hers and his lips pressed against hers. The dream had been so real.

Just for a moment she felt his lips on her neck, trailing to her collar bone—Just for a moment.

She increased the heat of the water, the steam was thick—she felt safe.

She could feel ghosts all around her—She wasn't sure if they were memories or fantasies.

* * *

Ginny stepped out of the shower— wrapping the towel around her body—and peered at her distorted reflection in the foggy mirror.

She could see a vaguely human shape, which—pardon the pun— reflected exactly how she felt. She could see faded colors—like a watercolor painting.

After a few moments—that felt equivocally like an eternity—Ginny cleared away the steam.

Now gazing at her true reflection (though she wasn't at all sure if she was correct in that assessment) Ginny debated what to do with her hair.

Ginny had always been an incurable tom-boy, but her hair was one of the things that she was girly about. She loved to play with it—experiment with different hairstyles.

Ginny's head was complaining at the prospect of all the primping, preening, and pulling that it would normally have to go through before she found a style she liked and went well with her plans for the day.

After a few minutes deliberation, Ginny settled on a simple French braid. She wouldn't even have to dry her hair.

She performed a holding spell so she wouldn't have to re-do the braid again later. At the end of the braid she put a black leather rose that she had bought at a muggle store.

Her hair now done, Ginny dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans and a black T-shirt emblazoned with a scull that had red roses protruding from the mouth.

Now dressed, she felt she was ready to face the day.

Ginny again gathered her toiletries and headed out of the steamy bathroom.

* * *

Immediately when Ginny stepped out into the open library she knew that the Peace Brigade had abandoned their assignments to once more fight with each other.

Ginny sighed and braced herself—or to be more precise, braced her still dully throbbing head—for the steadily rising decibel level.

Ginny made her way to the huge oak desk where books were checked out. She found her breakfast (buttered grits, scrambled egg casserole, and orange juice) and her assignments for the day.

Ginny found that she wasn't as hungry as usual, and only played with her food while looking over her day's work—Just the same as she had done every day since her perpetual imprisonment.

Ginny made her way back to the Restricted Section—she vaguely wondered when she would start to think of it as her room, if ever—to begin the day's work. She quickly became bored with her schoolwork. She finished her work, nonetheless, with unparalleled speed.

* * *

Now, finished she had no idea what to do. She didn't feel like reading (odd, she thought). She looked out the window at the grounds below, she ached to go for a walk and eat lunch under her favorite tree.

It was a beautiful day out, so much like the day when she had had her encounter with Malfoy on the grounds—The sky was cerulean and wispy white clouds floated lazily overhead; the grounds were still a brilliant green…

Suddenly Ginny found herself running for her weeping willow—just as she had that day—she heard Malfoy's mocking drawl, "Well, well. If it isn't the Weasel's sister…"

Ginny stopped short. What was going on? She turned and gaped at Draco Malfoy standing before her wearing exactly the same thing he had been wearing that day. His smirk widened.

She was going crazy—no, she was already crazy, she must be going insane.

He was waiting for her reply (odd, she thought, he'd never done that before). She had to think quick, what had she said to him that day?

"Sod off Malfoy, I've more important things." That's it!

"Oooh! Has little Weasleyette grown a backbone?" the feigned shudder, just as before. She remembered wanting to knee him and hex him into—where?—into the next dimension, her memory whispered.

Crazy—insane it whispered again.

Then what did she do? Oh yeah! Ginny rolled her eyes and flipped him off, then she—instead of walking, like she remembered doing on that day—ran to her tree.

She had to think. She was going crazy—insane— wasn't she? She had to figure out what was going on…

For the first time ever, she fervently wished that she was back locked in the library, curled up in her bed, hearing the noise of the Peace Brigade's feud in the background.

Then, there she was, just like she wanted; curled up in bed, the covers up to her chin, the Sound Proof Charm gone, and the loud, oddly comforting noise of her friends fighting—wait, did she just refer to Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Marcus Flint as friends?

She must be going craz—insane.

* * *

A.N. I know it's been awhile, but I've been busy. I've also been suffering from a bit of writer's block (a chronic illness). Anyway, let me know what you think! 


	7. Chapter Six: Dare To Dream

Chapter Six: Dare To Dream 

Ginny was confused. Had it all been a dream? Reliving the encounter with Malfoy? It hadn't all been the same—she'd made conscious decisions to change things, not much, it was true, but it was change all the same. But she had had dreams where she could affect the outcome before. But this was somehow different…

It had been a memory—had already happened. She _knew_ it had already happened.

Then there was the Sound Proof Charm, those things didn't just _wear off_, they had to be _lifted_.

But how…?

She shook her head to try to clear it—it didn't work. Her mind still whirled with the prospects of meaning to what had just happened to her.

Her headache was back—had it ever really gone away? Oh! More questions to be answered! They just made her head pound, throb, and pulse worse.

She needed a drink—of _what_, she didn't know.

Her body began to slip into a light doze—her mind fighting to stay afloat and conscious. It was a losing battle, however, and slowly her mind was lulled by the sounds of the battle outside, and she sank deeper into her subconscious.

The sounds outside intensified as Ginny Weasley sank deeper and deeper into, what was now, a heavy sleep.

_

* * *

This place seemed somehow, vaguely familiar. She looked around. It was nighttime, it seemed too dark, though. Ginny looked up at the sky, she could just make out the dark purple forms of storm clouds obscuring the moon and stars. It was cold, almost unbearably cold. She could see the pale, wispy vapors expelled form her mouth.__She was laying on the ground propped up against a stone object. She looked around once more. She noticed dark immobile forms surrounding her—in the shapes of gravestones. _

_She was in a graveyard! Ginny tried to get up, she now noticed that her belly was very round. She groped around on the ground to locate her wand. She finally found it and she whispered (she didn't know why, but it just seemed that she should be whispering), "Lumos." A bright, bluish light appeared at the end of her wand (she had invariably thought it curious that her wand always produced LED light). _

_Carefully, she turned to face the gravestone that she had been propped against. Then Ginny moved her wand so the light from her wand fell on the inscription._

_She gasped in horror and opened her mouth in a excruciating, silent scream:_

Here lies the body of Ronald Weasley whose life, though taken in darkness, lives forever in light.

_Ginny backed away as fast as possible and turned from her brother's grave. She found she had lost her breath. _

_Her eyes fell on the gravestone her wand now illuminated: _Harry Potter.

_She whirled around frantically taking in the graves surrounding her: _Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Arthur, _and_ Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Marcus Flint, Draco Malfoy…

_Her friends, her family, all gone…_

_Ginny fell back, her head settling on Draco Malfoy's final resting place._

_An unbearable pain ripped through her body—deathlike. She screamed in agony and writhed on the cold, unforgiving ground._

_She failed to hear the footsteps running toward her._

"_Don't struggle so, my love. I know it hurts, but soon, you will give birth." Tom's voice said in her ear as he cradled her in his arms._

_She saw him, he was slightly older—more lines—but still Tom._

_Another labor pain ripped through her body, and she screamed once more…_

* * *

Ginny woke screaming, she could still feel the pain and shock to her body and heart. She sat bolt upright, clutching the comforter, and breathing hard. Beads of sweat made their way down the hollow of her face. The last vestiges of pain dulled into soreness. 

She quickly clambered out of her bed. She could feel her face radiating heat, the rest of her felt oddly cold.

The sounds of the Peace Brigade were still going strong—part of her mind tried to wonder how they could go that long without stopping, but the rest of her mind refused to acknowledge this thought, it was too busy trying to sort things out.

Ginny made her way out of her make-shift room and followed the sounds. She found a chair close by the frontlines and sat down heavily. She stared blankly at the battle being waged before her.

As usual, no one noticed the sickly, vacant form staring—unseeing—at them as they fought.

* * *

A.N. I know that some of you think that the interactions between Ginny and Tom are a little strange… Well, they're meant to be that way. There is a method to my madness, so please bear with me. And by all means, let me know what you think, review or email, I'm not picky which. 


	8. Chapter Seven: See If I Care

Chapter Seven: See If I Care 

Eventually the fighting settled down and the Peace Brigade went their separate ways.

Ginny, in a semi-catatonic state, had disappeared into the stacks twenty minutes after she had awakened. She moved among the shelves of books, sliding her fingers along the spines of the volumes—unfeeling of the cool dragon-hide under her fingers; heedless of the rich dragon-hide smell that filled the air.

Her mind was a mess. It was fighting between sorting out the whole mysterious mess and completely shutting down to protect itself.

Ginny was scared—no, make that terrified. She had no idea what was going on, what was happening to her? Things were messed up, things were _very_ messed up.

Was it just a nightmare? Or was it something more? A premonition?

Mulling this thought over, Ginny decided she needed more information.

* * *

She skipped dinner that night, and breakfast the next morning. She only stopped her research for an hour, maybe, to do her lessons. 

Nothing she read had helped her, so far, to determine if it had been a dream—a nightmare—or a genuine foreshadowing of things to come. And since she didn't know which it was, she couldn't tell if it was fate or variable.

Ginny had never _really_ liked Divination, but she had always done fairly well in the class, she supposed it was sheer dumb luck that got her through the lessons, as opposed to real talent. Now, she wondered.

She didn't eat again at breakfast, lunch or dinner the next day.

She was getting nowhere. So, she made an executive decision to stop her research into premonitions, for the moment, and look into time.

Ginny decided to start with muggle science. This aspect of physics had always fascinated her— the nature of time, parallel universes, time travel and all that. It was much more interesting from a muggle perspective than it was from a magical perspective (though it was intriguing from that point of view, as well).

No, that wouldn't do, no matter how the subject matter fascinated her. She didn't need the specifics of how time and space worked (which, she had discovered in some long-ago-read volume, the muggles specialized in), she needed to know if it were possible, magically speaking, to transport yourself to the past and alter it.

Ginny's head groaned at the prospect of more small print and rebelled. She had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from screaming as white-hot daggers slammed into her skull. Bright lights dance in interesting shapes and patterns behind her closed lids—at least they _would_ have been interesting, had there not been molten blades smashing into her cranium.

She found that breathing was difficult and just aggravated her condition. She painstakingly made her way out of the stacks and to the closest table available and laid her head gingerly on her arm.

She didn't intend to go to sleep, but somehow the steady pound in her head in time with her heart lulled her into a doze—though the drowse still allowed her to feel the sharp pains coursing through her skull.

_

* * *

She was again standing in her dream-room, bathed in the pale ivory light of the still-full moon. Everything seemed the same as before; nothing seemed amiss in her mysterious dream-room. _

_She turned to gaze at the etiolated moon and stars. She was again struck by the beauty of the illuminated heavens._

_She took in the vastness of the sky and longed to visit each and every star that hung there, beckoning to her._

"_Some day, my love, we will visit the stars, together." Tom's voice whispered softly in her ear, his lips tickling the tiny hairs on her ear._

_For a fraction of a moment she allowed a smile to cross her lips as she entertained the notion._

_Then she turned around to stare into Tom's shadowy, intent face._

"I_," she began tightly, "am not _your_ love." She paused, then added, "I'm nobody's love."_

_She saw a look pass briefly across his face; but, she couldn't identify the emotion._

"_You've had a premonition." He said instead._

_For a moment Ginny thought of telling him she didn't know what he was talking about; but: _It's no use denying it, you could never hide anything from him_, her mind whispered._

_An amused light flashed in tom's eyes. He didn't need to say a word for Ginny to know he knew exactly what she was thinking._

"_Is that what it was?" she asked finally._

_He nodded. "It is your future; _our_ future."_

_She was silent for a moment, unknowing of how to respond. The idea disturbed her, though not as much as she'd anticipated._

"_There's no use fighting it;" he paused, wanting to again call her _love_, but knowing not to push his boundaries too far, " it is your fate, your _destiny_ to bear my heir."_

_Very suddenly things began to disintegrate around her… _

"_Nooooo—_

* * *

Ginny felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her from her dreams, and causing her head to protest severely. 

"Oh, _do_ stop that!" she moaned, refusing to open her eyes until she had the pain under control.

The hand stopped rocking mid-shake. Ginny rolled her head around to look up at the person who had shaken her from her dreams.

Draco Malfoy's cold gray eyes stared down at her, his face wiped of all expression.

She didn't know how, but she knew that he was working to keep it that way. She also felt that he was very practiced at this exercise and could hide his feelings well.

This new knowledge only compounded her confusion further.

She gave him a questioning look and somehow managed to convey how much she hurt at the same time.

"Dinner's here." He said.

She had no idea what he's said for a moment, then she closed her eyes as her head began throbbing worse. "Thanks, not hungry, you can have it." She felt positively green.

"You haven't eaten in two days—"

Ginny didn't need to ask how he'd known that; it was obvious, wasn't it? Instead she asked, "Since when do you care?"

He was quiet for a moment, she could tell he was asking himself the same question.

"Does it really matter? The point is that you haven't eaten a thing in three days and that's not healthy."

"I notice that my brother and his friends aren't here, so if they're not worried, why should you be?"

Malfoy snorted, "Your brother and his friends aren't very bright." He said as if he were stating the absolute obvious.

So it was. She couldn't argue there, but there were semantics to point out, "Only when it comes to me are they not very clever. Most other times they coast by."

Ginny thought that if she changed the subject that she might sidetrack him from her eating habits.

"Don't change the subject. You need nourishment."

Ginny's stomach threatened to expel it contents. "I've told you I'm not hungry, I'm too nauseous to be hungry."

"That's because you haven't eaten."

"No it's because my brain feels like it's rotting soup with spider croutons."

Ginny saw him cringe ever so slightly, then shut her eyes again against the light—_or from seeing him_.

That voice in the back of her head was getting really annoying!

"Which is because you haven't eaten in two days."

"I know how long it's been since I've eaten, thank you very much!" Ginny snapped. "My head felt like this _before_ I forgot to eat."

"How do you forget to eat?" he wondered aloud, in spite of himself.

"I wasn't hungry, so I didn't think about it."

Ginny cracked her eyes slightly, just in time to see Malfoy open her mouth to reply. She sat up a little too fast—her stomach flopped, again threatening to expel its contents and her head felt as it were a ticking time bomb. She gestured at him quick to stop him from more argument.

He stopped before he said anything, his mouth still open in mid-reply.

She waited for him to speak—he didn't move a muscle or twitch an eye.

Things felt as if time itself had stopped flowing around her, and all that would or could happen had ceased to exist.

Ginny began to panic. _What was going on? What had happened to her? Would she be stuck like this forever?_

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as she moved around Draco Malfoy's frozen form. _What had she done?_

Ginny felt a blinding stab of pain go through her head, she was unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

A.N. Chapter tittles are subject to change. I regularly re-read and edit my stories for better grammar, spelling, sentence structure, and just generally improve the writing and plot; so, you might want to skim the entire story from time to time for changes. Please let me know what you think! 


	9. Chapter Eight: Timeless

Chapter Eight: Timeless 

Ginny's mind was somewhere else.

Everything around her was high color—so bright that the colors hurt her eyes. The black and white were the worst. Just looking at them she felt as if she were going blind.

As she looked around, the bright, fluorescent colors blanked to gray, leaving only the bright white and black.

She didn't know how, but she knew that she was in a maze—a labyrinth—and she was at the heart of it.

She'd read a scene like this in a book when she was seven. She couldn't remember the name of the book, or even the plot, but this scene had always stuck in her mind—fascinating and terrifying her.

She wondered now if her subconscious was trying to tell her something.

She slowly became aware of the fact that it was unbearably cold—and she was clad in only a flimsy T-shirt and some pajama pants. Goosebumps rose on her skin.

Not sure where the feeling came from, but thinking—no, _knowing_—that it was more than the cold that had caused the gooseflesh to upspring.

Ginny thoroughly scanned her surroundings, forcing herself to ignore the brightness of the black and white.

She was beginning to get dizzy. The colors and shapes around her reminded her of a fun-park attraction.

Well, she wasn't having fun.

Ginny was finding it hard to keep her eyes open and stay standing up. The room was spinning around her; steadily going faster and faster.

Tom's face appeared in the bright black and white all around her.

"Don't fight it, Ginny." His echoing voice said, seeming to come from all around and nowhere.

"Fight what?" she whispered, barely audible.

"_Don't fight it_."

The room whirled ever faster.

With great effort—that Ginny didn't know she had—Ginny bolted from the middle of the maze and ran as fast as she could away—away from Tom's whirling fun-house and away from Tom.

She had to get out.

She had to get out.

* * *

She didn't know how long she'd been running—time didn't seem to exist here—but when she slowed down she was thoroughly lost. Which was exactly what she'd expected, but it was still upsetting nonetheless. 

She stopped to get her bearings. Which way was the exit?

The corridor she was standing in was in stark contrast to the heart of the labyrinth that she had run from. Here, it was dark and shadowy. Light just seemed to fall into the walls. She didn't understand why or how she could see.

She felt cool glass on the wall. And the gravitational pull of the walls, floor and ceiling; as if black holes were contained within the glass.

That _would_ explain why the light just seemed to fall into the darkness.

_What was this place?_

All at once all she wanted to do was unlock the secrets of this strange place that she was in.

Getting out didn't seem quite as important anymore.

Now she had to know what was contained within the glass surrounding her.

She leaned her head onto the pane and closed her eyes. She wanted a glass of ice water, suddenly she was very thirsty.

Her ears picked up footsteps, echoing down the corridor, coming her way. She didn't move, she was too tired to move; all she wanted was a nice tall glass of ice water and to curl up in her warm, safe bed and go to sleep and never wake up.

The footfalls stopped.

Tom had found her—well, she hadn't really been hiding from him in the first place, she knew that he could sense where _she_ was, just as she could sense where _he_ was, but that didn't mean that she wanted to be anywhere near him.

Slowly, deliberately, she moved her head around so she was looking at him.

A beat passed, neither of them said anything; they just stood there, peering at the other.

Tom began to take a step forward and before she knew what she was doing, her instincts and reflexes took over and she had moved her hands up in front of her—almost exactly as she had with Drac—Malfoy, only she missed her aim slightly and the wall to Tom's right had a hole blown into it.

It only took a matter of nanoseconds for the entire glass wall to be sucked out into the black void beyond its barrier and Ginny too was being pulled backwards with it.

* * *

A.N. I know this is a pretty short chapter and given how long it's taken me to update this story it should've been longer, but in my defense, things have been a little hectic around here and I'd also come down with a chronic case of Writer's Block. So, I apologize for its briefness as well as its tardiness. Please R&R . 


	10. Chapter Nine: Rewind

**Chapter Nine: Rewind**

"—You are a very strange girl. And you are goi—" Ginny was on the floor. How had she gotten there? Just a minute ago she'd been sitting with her head lying on a table, telling him that she didn't need to eat.

Worry instantly sprang in his chest in the split-second that these thoughts flitted through his mind.

He was kneeling beside her. He pressed two fingers against her neck to feel for a pulse—now where had he learned that?

He felt a faint cadence. She looked so pale, so fragile.

* * *

Ginny was swimming in a sea of color. It wasn't color like she had experienced in the echoing corridors of the—what _was_ that place?

No, this was deep and rich and well, there was no other word for it: Beautiful.

It pulsed and flowed around her, caressing every inch of her body and sending new impulses through her brain.

Ginny was content just to float in that ocean of colors and emotions. However, something changed—something _always_ changed and upset her happiness; she wished that, just once, she could stay happy for a little while—a week, a few hours, just a little while!

Ginny began to feel desperate and the colors around her reflected this change.

Then, she was at home—but something wasn't right, the furniture was, well, newer, less worn and torn; and there were no pictures of her in any of the places they had been when she'd left at the beginning of term.

This bewildered her. And she felt the air around her swim, for a moment the scene around her shimmered and changed colors to mirror her mood change.

She saw her mother—definitely younger and thinner (she had never fully lost all the weight she'd gained from her pregnancy with Ginny) and a few less worry lines on her face—worriedly appear in the room and begin pacing. Every once in awhile she'd gaze up at the family clock to check the whereabouts of her husband.

Ginny watched—just as she had so many times before—as her father's spoon moved to "traveling" and a second later, with a faint _pop_, he appeared in front of her mother.

"Hello, dear." He said cheerfully, his hair just beginning to show signs of thinning. "How was your day?"

Her mother looked faintly flustered, and cautiously hopeful. She wrung her hands, "Arthur, we need to talk," she said nervously.

And Ginny _knew_. She was reliving her life.

"Yes?"

"Sit down, please."

"Alright." He said moving to the sofa and seating himself. "Really Molly dear, you act as you did when you told your father you wanted to marry me." He said lightly.

Molly's smile was genuine, if tentative.

She took a deep breath and steadied her hands, "Arthur," she said and took another breath, "We're going to have another baby."

Ginny watched as her father sat there for a moment, stunned and then leaped from the couch and enveloped his nervous wife in a joyous hug, lifting her and swinging her around.

She watched as the months progressed and Molly Weasley's belly burgeoned.

And then she was in her parents' bedroom, her mother bathed in sweat, giving birth in their bed.

Her first bath. Her first words. She watched as she took her first steps.

Then, as Ginny watched, she was transported to a little room that she had never seen before. Sybil Trelawny, looking much younger and less harassed, was sitting with an also much more spry Albus Dumbledore.

"_**She is born of the seventh son of the seventh son and the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter. With hair of flames and spirit to match she will be an integral part of the destiny of the world. **_

"_**She is the key to the course of the New World. Her powers will be unmatched and never before seen—"**_

The room was fading around her and she was once again awash in a sea of color. Ginny's head throbbed as she tried to wrap it around what she'd just heard.

_She had her own prophecy!_

Time seemed to have no existence here.

All too soon (also not soon enough) Ginny was back in her dream room.

She peered around. Exactly the same as before.

She began to wonder if it _ever _changed.

Ginny turned to gaze out the window—its ethereal light spilling onto her shoulders—and pondered what she had just witnessed.

Standing there for a time she became aware of angered breathing behind her. Slowly pivoting, though she already knew who it was, Tom stood there looking furious and disheveled.

Alarmed, Ginny backed into the wall—the window, more like, almost falling out—her heart beating faster.

All of the things he had ever done to anyone running through her mind.

Her breathing quickened, but her fear was melting into anger.

Slowly, she drew herself up and…

* * *

Ginny gasped. Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy stood over her; both looking worried.

She was still breathing hard, like she'd been running a 6-mile race at full tilt.

Pushing herself up on her elbows—ignoring Draco and Blaise's protests—Ginny looked around.

No longer at the table on the edge of the stacks.

She was laying on a bed in one of the out of the way corners in the stacks. There were two beds in this little nook both done in green and silver (two of her favorite colors), a table (with a tray of fabulously smelling cuisine sitting atop), two desks, a trunk at the end of each bed, and a little cast iron gate barring the entrance to this little hideaway.

"So, this is where the two of you have been keeping yourselves, is it?"

**_

* * *

A.N. I fixed a few errors and added a little to the prophecy. I should have the next chapter up soon, I hope. I've been having a little trouble with it; but then again, I'm a perfectionist._**


	11. Chapter Ten: Tough All Over

Chapter Ten: Tough All Over 

Blaise and Draco were momentarily caught off guard at Ginny's comments; they had been discussing what to do about her if she didn't wake soon—and it looked to them like she wasn't going to.

Ginny saw them both visibly jump when she spoke and couldn't help but smile.

"We couldn't break the Charm on the Restricted Section—"

"Yeah, what spell d'you use on that door, anyway?" interrupted Blaise.

"Never mind that, now. You, young lady, are going to eat." Stated Draco sternly.

Ginny giggled. "You sound like my parents!"

Blaise was also sniggering.

Ginny was still vaguely tuned into Draco's feelings; she now discovered that she was also understanding Blaise better as well.

Draco opened his mouth to tell her that stalling wasn't going to help her, but she held up her hands and said, "I'm famished, any pot roast in there?"

The boys sat and marveled as they watched Ginny gobble down every last crumb on the plate in record time.

_How could someone so small eat so much? _They wondered.

"What?"

The boys shook their heads.

"Growing up with six older brothers with their friends around all the time you've gotta pick up a few less than desirable habits." Ginny stated, rolling her eyes.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender, "Hey, I didn't say a word!"

To this Ginny just rolled her eyes again and said, "Is there any dessert?"

After polishing off a few sweets that Draco and Blaise had conjured for her Ginny sat back content and a little sleepy. It seemed that her perpetual cross mood was wearing off and she was having a right nice little chat with the boys about quidditch.

The conversation settled into a companionable silence and Blaise glanced at his watch.

"Yowza!" he exclaimed—this, understandably, drew incredulous looks from Ginny and Draco.

"It's almost midnight." He said a bit sheepishly.

Ginny arched a brow.

"What?! I learned from you!"

"I didn't think that you took that much notice of my speech patterns prior to this afternoon."

"It is a bit of an unusual word." Commented Draco.

"I suppose so; I never much thought it over."

"Where did you happen to pick it up, anyway?" asked Blaise.

"Comic books." She replied.

"Pardon?" coughed Draco, rather politely, he thought.

"Comic books," Ginny repeated. "Vintage Superman, Batman, Bazooka Joe, X-Men, Spiderman…?"

Blaise and Draco looked even more confused.

Ginny sighed attempting to rise to the challenge of explaining comic books to the obviously misinformed boys.

A brainwave struck her, shifting the covers and getting of the bed she jerked her head and said, "Follow me."

She led them to the Restricted Section.

As Blaise and Draco followed Ginny inside the first thing they noticed was that it was bigger than they remembered it; the second thing was that it was turned into a bedroom, of sorts.

Ginny led them to a small bookshelf that they had not previously noticed, but looked right at home with all the wrought-iron and mahogany bookshelves originally in the Restricted Section.

Draco looked inquiringly at her, "Was that here before?"

Ginny smiled, a little mischievously it must be said, but nothing that someone who didn't know her extremely well would ever be able to detect, "No. It was not."

She pulled a few thin volumes from the shelf and began explaining the finer points between Graphic Novels and Comic books, and instilling in them a secret history of the materials.

Sometime later Ginny was curled up on her bed floating between sleep and wakefulness. She heard it begin to rain gently. And thunder grumbled in the distance, followed in quick succession by lightning, driving winds, and the rain beating more violently against the windows.

Then she drifted closer to sleep; the storm outside lulling her.

_The dream room didn't look quite the same. Its whole ambiance had changed; it was more dangerous, somehow, than before. Maybe the moon and stars didn't shine quite as brightly in the night sky as before and now had a distinct red cast to them. Or maybe it was that the light breeze always present before had become angrier. Or maybe it was that the shadows were darker and more sinister. Maybe it was all of these things, she didn't know, but things were definitely more ominous. _

_The cold, angry breeze picked up more and became a wind. Her hair streaming behind her she gazed out the window and tried to figure out why things had changed and what was going on, in general, in her life. She knew that the prophecy that she'd heard when she'd been reliving critical moments from her life (even if she was still in the womb she was still **alive**) had something to do with what was going on now. At least, she **thought** it did. _

_She suddenly became aware of hard breathing on her neck, hot and moist, making her shiver. _

_Anger—no, fury, she could sense fury it filled the room with stifling heat. For a moment she was caught off guard and allowed herself to be afraid, but the moment soon passed and she was again in control. _

_Ginny turned to gaze at Tom. "I," he said very carefully controlling his fury, "was, _not,_ fin-ish-ed earlier." _

_She arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to elaborate, he did not. _

_Producing the ruby chalice he proffered it to her, rather forcefully, she thought. _

_When she did not instantly grab it he stepped closer to her and brought the edge of the glass to her lips, pressing hard, forcing her to drink. _

**_A.N. I know it's been forever since I've updated and this chapter doesn't at all reflect the time spent writing it, but look on the bright side: At least I finally updated! Maybe more will follow soon. _**


End file.
